


Compromising

by Lamuel



Category: Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid
Genre: Asexual Relationship, Established Relationship, I hc Wilbur Cross as a psychic but that's only very briefly in there, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Light Angst, M/M, Relationship Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:29:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28634763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamuel/pseuds/Lamuel
Summary: John has always been better at compromising than Wilbur.
Relationships: Wilbur Cross/John McNamara, Xander Lee/John McNamara
Kudos: 5





	Compromising

**Author's Note:**

> This work was vaguely inspired by HelloIExist's "I Think I'm Losing My Mind" (https://archiveofourown.org/works/24784585/chapters/59933041)! Which I love, btw, so if you happen to be here and not have read it I recommend to check it out!

Wilbur was sat on the bed, right hand playing with the fabric of the blanket. It was of a rough cotton material. John had always preferred silk, it was better for his hair, but Wilbur had never been able to stand the smooth feeling on his skin. So he had gotten his way and his husband had compromised. Like with so many things in their relationship.  
John had always been good at compromising.

He heard the water running in the bathroom where John was taking a shower. He usually took long showers and Wilbur was grateful for that. It meant he still had time to think this through. Call the whole thing off.  
He didn't need to start a fight in the morning right before a dangerous mission. He shouldn't. He knew there was a chance he wasn't going to make it back alive. A chance that he'd leave John forever, and with his last memory of their relationship a fight.

He wished he had found out sooner. Had been able to take time for himself to think this through. To collect himself, make up his mind about what he was going to do. He didn't want to leave John on a fight, not if it might mean goodbye for good.  
He knew John wouldn't forgive himself if they got seperated on bad terms. He fucking knew it.

And yet he knew he wasn't able to keep his mouth shut. To just ignore this for a single day, pretend he didn't know, relish the feeling, or rather lack of feeling, of sweet, blissful ignorance. He should, he wished he could, for both John and himself.  
But Wilbur had never been one to keep his thoughts to himself. It had always gotten him into trouble, and this might be the biggest trouble yet.

The sound of running water stopped. He heard two wet footsteps, John readjusting in the shower.  
Had they ever done it in there? Maybe.  
The thought made him sick.

Wilbur's heart beat in his chest faster and faster, and as much as he tried to consciously calm it down, it just got worse the more time passed.  
He tried to focus on the blanket again, but the fabric between his fingers only brought regret, and he quickly pulled his hand away.  
The carpet under his socks. It was grey made of polyester. John had opted for blue, but Wilbur had wanted a black one. He hadn't thought blue would fit with the curtains. John had said black was too depressing. So they had compromised and gotten the grey one. Wilbur had been annoyed for days afterwards and never gotten quite accustomed to the grey carpet.  
He wasn't good at compromising.

John had been right. Blue would have been a perfect fit with the curtains. But Wilbur hadn't seen that.  
Now he wanted nothing more than to rip this grey carpet apart, go back in time and get the blue one. Go back further and get him silk bedsheets. And further and further and give him everything he had ever wanted.

The lock of the bathroom door clicked and Wilbur's heart stopped in his chest.

"What's the matter?" John asked when he stepped out, dressed in his uniform and hands in his still damp hair, scrunching it dry with a silk towel. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Wilbur wanted to respond, toss back a snarky remark, but his head came up empty and the words got stuck in his throat.

John's expression changed from playfulness to actual worry as he scrutinized Wilbur, taking a step closer and reaching for his right hand.  
Wilbur flinched back, and the movement was enough to startle John into taking a step back again.

Wilbur was able to watch his expression change trying to figure out what was wrong.  
"Listen, Wil, if you think it won't go well it's still time to call this whole thing off." John said, softly: "I respect your decision to do it, but no one will blame you if you decide not to."

His voice was almost pleading and it sent a wave of guilt coarsing through Wilbur.  
John had been clear about this from the start. Had always told him that he didn't want him to go through the portal, but that he'd respect his decision if he really wanted to.  
He had told John that it wasn't a question of what he wanted. That he had to. That it was his calling.  
And so John had never said another word to discourage him from entering the void.  
Of course he hadn't.

"So, Xander Lee." Wilbur finally said, his voice shaking.

John's expression changed into confusion, then into a kind smile: "What about him?"  
He was such a good actor. Or maybe Wilbur was just shit at reading people.

"I don't want him to go, Xander", Wilbur finally echoed the words he had heard the night before, when he had wandered the halls of the headquarters after his last briefing: "I need a distraction."

John's face grew pale at the recognition of the words he had uttered the night before, but it brought Wilbur none of the satisfaction he had thought it would. Instead, it brought back the images he had seen. On his knees, spying through the keyhole of one of PEIP's meeting rooms. His unsatiable curiosity letting him witness something that had never been meant for his eyes.

"Look, Wil, it's not-" John begun, immediately interrupting himself and starting anew: "I love you."

Wilbur had so many things he could say. Elaborate sentences, questions, explanations of his feelings, all of which he had come up with over night, tossing and turning, trying to find a way to confront John, not sure what he even wanted to get out of the confrontation.  
So many possibilities and sentences.  
"No you don't." Was what he said instead.  
A sentence that hadn't even come to mind once all night, and yet was the only one that came to his mind now that the confrontation had actually arrived.  
"I don't think you love me."

The words ignited an angry spark in John's eyes and he came a step closer again: "You don't get to tell me what I feel, Wilbur. I know that best. I love you. And you know that I do. And I feel nothing for him."

"You're lying." Wilbur heard the thud of an object that fell down from his nightstand behind him. He couldn't be bothered to turn around and check what it was that his wave of anger and betrayal had thrown onto the ground.  
"If there was nothing you would have told me."

John swallowed and fiddled with a zipper on his vest. "I don't know why I didn't tell you, I should have, but I promise-"

"I know why!" Wilbur shot up to eye level with John, glaring down at him, though now that he looked into his husband's eyes he felt tears pricking in his own. "And I know I should've expected it. It was dumb to think you'd entertain this relationship in the long run. It's unnatural. Do you think I don't know that, John? I do." Something else flew off a shelf behind him, this time against a wall. Wilbur hadn't lost control like this in years upon years, but he didn't care. Couldn't right now.

"But I gave you every possibility, John." He spat. "I told you 'hey, if you want to sleep with someone else, just let me know and do it, hey, if you want to fuck me I'll get used to it and do my best, hey, if you want to break up over this please tell me now, it's alright and I won't blame you, just don't lead me on, hey-' I gave you EVERY option, John, every singe fucking option, and all I wanted from you was fucking honesty with it! So please explain to me why, if it was nothing, you couldn't just fucking tell me."

John hesitated for a second, and that was enough time to tear Wilbur open from the inside.  
He should have known. He should have known that this wasn't going to be enough for John in the long run.  
He wasn't the ideal partner. He was always distracted, always conflicted, always in motion, always enthralled with his own ideas, always occupied with something. Less loving, less understanding, less thoughtful, less emotionally available than John deserved. And he couldn't even offer him the fucking basis of human relationships, not willingly or enthusiastically at least.

Everything between them had been a compromise from John's side from the get-go. Of course it was doomed to fail.

So why did it hurt so much?

"Listen, Wil" John finally said, attempting to step toward him but stopping when he saw his look. "I know I should have told you. I don't know what got into me. I think it's- You know, I told you time and time again that I didn't need it, that I wasn't going to just..wander off and sleep with someone I don't have an emotional connection with. So maybe, I don't know, maybe I thought you wouldn't believe me if I told you that changed. But can we please not, on our last morning.."  
He ran his hand through his hair; he looked exhausted. It sent a bullet through Wilbur's stomache, but they were to far into this fight to take a step back, he didn't want to. He couldn't.

"You're right, I don't believe you. Not now. If I can't trust you to be honest with our relationship, our fucking marriage, I can't possibly trust you on this." Wilbur could hear how cold his voice was, bare of any warmth or emotions. He didn't want it to be like that. He wanted to sort things out, he wanted to talk this through, he wanted John to say something that convinced him. He wanted to believe him again.  
Instead, he walked past John toward the door of the room: "We should get going."

"Wait-" John exclaimed and Wilbur could feel his look on the back of his head: "What's with...What are we going to do now?"

He sighed and turned around, looking at John: "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I think- I don't know, okay?" He sounded so fucking tired and Wilbur saw tears in his eyes: "Maybe there was something more, okay? Not a lot just, something. I don't..I love you, Wil. I'll stop things with Xander, they should never have started, I shouldn't have slept with someone else-"

"It's not about you sleeping with Xander, for fuck's sake, John. It's about not telling me. That's not so hard to understand, is it? I get why you slept with Xander, I get why you probably have a connection with him now that you don't have with me. It's not about that, I told you to sleep with whoever you want. It's about you not telling me. That was my one condition. My one fucking condition. You want this to be an open relationship, great, just fucking tell me. I practically made it impossible for you to cheat and you managed to find the ONE loophole to still hurt me. How the fuck am I supposed to trust you again?"  
He blinked away his own tears, not wanting them to affect the way John viewed him.

He still had his hand on the cold, slick doorhandle, completely motionless. It felt like it was sucking all the warmth and energy out of him.

"What are we going to do now?", John asked after an eternity.  
"We'll figure it out when I'm back. We're already late." With that Wilbur opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

They walked to the portal room in silence.

John averted Xander's gaze when they entered.

Wilbur refused to look at him when he explained the last details of the plan.

Everything went by in a haze, with dampened volume and the noise of static.  
And suddenly it was time to step in.

Wilbur heard his collegues wishing him luck.  
Cheering him on.  
He looked at John and his lips were moving, too.  
They read 'I love you'.

Wilbur knew that he should get off the small staircase in front of the portal. Go to John. Swallow his current feelings of anger. Compromise and be honest with him instead of mad. Hug him one more time, tell him that he loved him, that he wasn't going to break up over this.  
That they would be alright. He knew they would be.  
He was angry and hurt now but that didn't keep him from loving his husband.

But Wilbur had never been good at compromising. And apprently John wasn't as good as he had thought either. 


End file.
